No Time for Mercy
by FloatingKitties
Summary: The twelve districts of Panem stand silently, waiting for the 47th annual Hunger Games to begin. Some tributes are ecstatic, some are nervous, and some are petrified with fear. Twenty-three will fall, and one will remain. For there can only be one victor.***********SYOT**********OPEN***********
1. Prologue Tribute Form

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games. If I did, I would have found a better ending to the third book.**

**AN: Okay, so, this is a SYOT, so submit your tribute in the form bellow. I will accept as many as I can, and I'll accept them through both review and PM. **

On the continent formally know as North America, in the nation of Panem, the twelve districts stood in silence. Across the nation, twenty-four glass bowls had been filled with slips of paper. Those twenty-four bowls held determined the fate of twenty-four children. Twenty-four children would leave their families to face the horrors of the arena, some unwillingly, some voluntarily. Twenty-four children would eat and starve, chase and be chased, murder and be murdered. Twenty-three would fall. And one would remain. For there can only ever be one.

**AN: Okay let's get this started! Fill out the form below, and submit it via review or PM. Try and make your tribute have flaws, and don't be disappointed if they are killed off. I might take kill requests and sponsorships, so be sure to review and tell me whom you want to live and die. Have fun!**

**Available Spots**

**District 1**

Male: Damask Diamonds

Female: Jewel Rose Tyler

**District 2**

Male: Apollo Lexington

Female: Liliana Karther

**District 3 **

Male:

Female: Fluffy Soryal Jax

**District 4**

Male: Decebel Gold

Female: Brooke Heller**  
**

**District 5**

Male:

Female:

**District 6**

Male : Tate Arlington

Female: Cinder Lorelei Otto

**District 7**

Male:  
Female: Ablynn Castle

**District 8**

Male:

Female:

**District 9**

Male:

Female: Bran Feller**  
**

**District 10**

Male:

Female:

**District 11**

Male:  
Female: Sage Tors

**District 12**

Male:  
Female: Corsage Bliss

**Tribute Form**

**Name:  
District:  
Age:**

**Gender:**

**Appearance:  
Personality:**

**Family:**

**Friends:  
History/ Background:  
Reaping Outfit:  
Reaped or Volunteered:**

**District Token:**

**Weapon of Choice:**

**Floating Kitties is not responsible for the death of your tribute. Please no angry reviews. I accept and agree to these Terms and Conditions. (Y/N):**

**Have fun everyone!**


	2. Liliana Karther: District 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games or most of these characters. **

**AN: So far I still have 15 open slots left, so lets try to fill that up! Submit your character soon! First up, our District Two Female! (Character written by Daughteroflove7491)  
**

**Liliana Karther (15): District 2**

The bright sunlight forces it's way through my window, causing me to wake up. Groggily, I sit up in bed, rubbing my green eyes while yawning. I shuffle over to my mirror to get dressed, and just as I start pulling on my training clothes, I remember what today is. The Reaping.

Running a comb through my long dark hair, I consider doing something nice with it, but decide against it. I let it hang there yesterday as well, and if I didn't style it on my birthday, I certainly am not going to style it today. Pulling out random dresses from my closet, I decide on a black silk dress falling to my knees, with a pair of matching flats. I don't want to wear anything to fancy. It's going to be a long run up to the stage, and it would be embarrassing if my dress ripped.

"Liliana, darling, come downstairs for breakfast!" my mother, Marianne calls up in a singsong voice. "We've got pancakes!"

"Dude, Lili, get your lazy butt down here! She won't let me eat until you've come!"

Arriving at the table, I see my fourteen-year-old brother Thatcher with a pile of pancakes a mile high stacked on his plate, untouched. He grins when I sit down, then immediately starts to wolf down his breakfast. My mother delivers me my own plate, and then sits down at her end of the table, smiling at the two of us. She babies Thatcher and me, gives us everything we want. We're her little angels. And who can blame her? It's her way of coping with Dad's death, and he died only a few months ago. It's hard to believe he'll never see me win.

After finishing up with breakfast, I remain at the table, nervously fidgeting. I've spent years preparing for this day, but it all will be worthless if I can't get Mother's permission.

"Um, Mom? Can- can I ask you something?"  
My mother looks up. "What is it, sweety?"  
I swallow. "Can I volunteer this year?"

My mother stops. She stares at me for a second. Then breaks out into the largest smile I've ever seen.

"Of course you can, honey! I'm so proud of you! Now, mind you, I didn't expect you to ask me so soon; fifteen is a little young. But still, congratulations!" She pulls me into a tight hug. "Oh, if only Quintus could see you now. He would be just as happy as I am!"

I'm a little surprised. Mother hasn't mentioned Dad since he died. Maybe this is helping her heal. Well, if seeing her daughter compete on live television in front of the entire nation makes her happy, I'll definitely do my best.

After Thatcher congratulates me on my decision, we all head out the door. Mother is chattering on and on about her favorite Hunger Games, the one where my uncle claimed the Victor's title.

"Oh, I remember that Reaping like it was yesterday. Your father and I had just started dating, and we were surprised to see Marcus rush the stage. But he looked so strong and powerful up there, I just knew he was going to win! And I was right!"

She turns around and smiles at me. "And I'm going to be right about these games, to!"

Once we get to the town square, my mother kisses us goodbye and we both head off to our different sections. Pushing my way through the crowd of fifteen-year-olds, I lean over the rope separating me from the fourteens' section. My birthday being the day before the reaping, I actually had to attend the Reapings one year earlier than the rest of kids in my grade, so the other three girls in my clique are one row in front of me.

"Lili! Lili! Over here!"

I see Lizzy, the leader of our fabulous gang, running through the crowd in a deep purple V-neck dress with my other two friends right behind her. Pausing only a second to catch her breathe, she flips her waist-length light brown hair and begins an endless stream of chatter.

"Omg, I'm totally sorry I missed your birthday yesterday, but I _had _to go shopping for this dress. I mean, isn't it amazing?"

"It's really pretty, Liz." I reply. Lizzy would look good in anything, and she's constantly going out with numerous guys. I'm not ugly or anything, but I'm just not very noticeable. I can't tan, and my arms are a little long. Oh well. That'll change. Guys love rich girls, right?

"I took these two with me," Lizzy continues, gesturing to the remaining members of our clique. "But they weren't much help. Kayla just kinda stood there, and Madeline was to busy trying to pick out a dress for herself."

I can understand Kayla being uncomfortable in a dress shop. She's not very attractive, but she's very strong and menacing. We keep her around because she's very loyal to Lizzy, and she's good at scaring little kids for laughs. Madeline is the only one of the group who actually gets me. She understands my drive to win at everything; be it popularity or the Hunger Games, and she supports every decision I make. She might be my only real friend.

"I totally want to go to the Capitol." Lizzy moans. "They are, like, really fashion savvy. I would love to go shopping there, and get my hair dyed, and maybe a tattoo, and-

"I'll send you a postcard once I get there." I interrupt. Lizzy, Kayla, and Madeline all stare at me for a second, then erupt into squeals of glee. (Well, Lizzy and Madeline do, Kayla just nods.)

"I knew it! I knew you were volunteering this year!" Lizzy shouts with joy. "Your so lucky, Lili! You'll get dressed up by a professional stylist and be on TV and everything! You have to bring me back some stuff!"  
"Good luck." Madeline grins approvingly. "I know you can win this."  
We don't have any more time to talk, because the mayor and our strange escort have started the ceremony. Lizzy admires the Capitol's sense of style, but I sure don't. What man would willingly have his hair dyed pink? Our escort, with his flamboyant hairstyle and rainbow colored clothes, is reaching into the girls' bowl.

"Mellie Athernom!" The thirteen-year-old doesn't even have a chance to speak up before my fist is in the air.

"I volunteer!" I scream at the same time as a girl from the seventeen's section. Not even glancing at my friends, I take of towards the stage. I knew it was a smart idea to wear this dress. The girl running behind me is having a hard time keeping up with her stiff, fancy, blue dress. I reach the stage long before she does.

"And what, may I ask, is your name, dear?" The escort says in the strange, flighty accent all the Capitolions share.

"Liliana Karther." I speak clearly and confidently into the microphone. The seventeen-year-old is trudging back to her section tearfully. Oh well. She'll have her chance next year. This is my time to shine.

**AN: Please give me feedback and be sure to review! Remember if you like a character you can leave a review and sponsor them in the arena. Be sure to submit through review or PM!**


	3. Apollo Lexington: District 2

**Disclaimer: Blah blah blah, I don't own the Hunger Games. Does anyone know when Catching Fire is coming out?**

**AN: Sorry I wasn't able to update quickly. I was waiting on a District 2 Male. Well, here he is! (Credit goes to: Violagirl23)**

**Apollo Lexington (18): District 2**

_Thwack!  
_ The head flies off a dummy.

_Swish!  
_My sword flies through the air, striking the dummy at the shoulder, and slicing it clean in half.

_Thump!  
_I stab what little is left of the dummy, right where it's heart should be. My training instructors raise their eyebrows approvingly. They're confident District 2 will have another Victor this year.

I'm ready for the Hunger Games.

The training center has practically been my home for the past twelve years, ever since I was six. Ever since Dad left. I still remember it, a little. A bunch of yelling. Mom crying. The door slamming. And that strange feeling, knowing deep down that Faustus Greene was never coming back.

He left his four-year-old child and a pregnant wife with no money, no means of support, and no one to turn to. My mother barely survived giving birth to Minerva, and even when she did, she immediately had to start working 10-hour shifts in the quarries to support us. I was left by myself all day, no father, no father, and even my baby sister had to stay at the quarries with my mom. I spent my time wandering around the district, restless and lonely. Eventually, one particular building caught my interest. The District 2 Career Training Center.

I would spend all day, watching the older kids handle weapons, spar, and hack apart dummies. By the time I was six, the trainers started teaching me how to use a sword, how to fight, and how to survive. When I was twelve, I could beat most of the older kids at wrestling, swordplay, and almost every other thing the center had to offer. Some of the trainers say I'm better than most Victors. And I'm starting to think that's true.

I head toward the showers to get ready for the reaping. I'm both annoyed and pleased to once again find notes in my locker. Girls are constantly leaving me little messages, with confessions of love, directions for meeting places, or sometimes, very detailed descriptions of how hot I am. My appearance is debatable, ranging from unbearably ugly to extremely attractive. I can never get my curly black hair to behave, and my brown eyes have been described as either terrifying or the height of sexiness. Apparently, there is something very alluring about me, so I'm not going to complain too much if random girls are compelled to leave notes in my locker.

I've gone out with any number of girls, with a new one every two weeks. They never last. The most recent one, Lizzy or something, only lasted three days. I'm still not sure which one of us got bored of the other first. That's the problem. I'm just not very interested in girls anymore. I want something more. I want the glory and fame that comes with winning the Hunger Games. The money, too. If I win, Mom will never have to work again. She can spend all day at home, with Minerva and me, like she's always wanted to.

I hop out of the showers and head back to the house. I hardly do anything there besides sleep. I spend my time at school or at the Training Center. The Center provides free food, so it saves Mom a little extra money. Walking into the house, I marvel, as always, at how clean Minerva keeps it. She's nothing like her namesake, a harsh goddess of wisdom, but more like a calm, sweet, kind-hearted girl, always smiling, always cheerful, always ready to say a kind word. I guess neither of us turned out like the gods we were named after, because I'm no golden-haired harp player. Just as I'm admiring the flowers she's placed in a vase, Minerva walks in wearing a pretty green dress far to expensive for Mom to have paid for.

"Hey, Apollo!"  
"Where'd you get the dress?"  
"Julian gave it to me. Isn't it pretty?"  
"Who the hell is Julian?"

"My boyfriend."

I'm pissed. "You're fourteen! You don't need a boyfriend."

Minerva sighs. "I can if I want to. I already asked for Mom's permission, so you can't do anything about it. Besides, he's really nice! I bet you two will get along."

"How many other boys have you gone out with?" I'm still not convinced that my sweet little sister should be doing anything with guys.

"Just one. His name was Thatcher. But I didn't do anything bad with him or Julian, so you have nothing to worry about. Now go change! It's almost time to go."  
I head to my small bedroom and dig out a rumpled black cotton T-shirt. I pull on a pair of jeans and a pair of dress shoes before entering the kitchen, and am surprised to see my mom sitting at the table. I hardly ever see her since she's always at work, and she sleeps during the hours she gets off, so her appearance is surprising.

"Good morning, sweetie." she says wearily. I really do admire her. This is the woman who works 10 hours every day to give Minerva and me a house, and to provide us with food. The day after Minerva was born, she got a job mining rocks out of a quarry. After dad left, she changed our last name back to her original one, Lexington. I owe her a lot, and will make it up to her when I win.

"Morning, Mom!" Minerva and I say at the same time. We make sure she has breakfast, and then we all head off together to the town square. The decorated stage looms over the crowd, painted with bright colors and flashy symbols. We must have a new escort this year. The last stage was pretty dull.

At the check-in station, we both say goodbye to Mom. I give her a kiss on the cheek and wave goodbye, nothing to emotional. There will be time for goodbyes later.

I escort Minerva to the fourteen's section, where she almost runs into a group of girls leaning over the railing, talking to a girl in the fifteen's. I'm annoyed to see that she immediately starts talking to boy who looks a little on the wealthy side. I'm assuming that's Julian. Him and me will have a talk as soon as I get back.

I'm herded into the eighteen's section, and discover I was right about the new escort. This one's a man, and I'm nearly blinded by his bright pink hair. I zone out as the mayor gives his speech, and finally the escort is approaching the girl's ball. He reads a name I don't recognize, but immediately a girl in the seventeen's section in front me volunteers and rushes to the stage. It seems a fifteen-year-old beat her though, and trudges back to her section. I recognize the girl on the stage. I've seen her in the training center before, but never really paid attention to her. I know she's good at running though.

"Liliana Karther." She speaks into the microphone. She seems pretty confident. It's to bad. I like her spirit.

The escort's drawing for the boys now. He doesn't even have time to read the name before my shout is heard.

"I volunteer!"  
Another boy in the sixteen's attempts to beat me to the stage, but I get the better of him. I catch up to him and throw him to the side. The escort is ecstatic by the time I reach the stage. He hand the microphone to me.

"Apollo Lexington." I say menacingly before he even asks. I scan the crowd. The eyes of my district look rather impressed. They all believe I can win this. They've seen me train. They know what I'm capable of.

And I'm not just gong to let them down, am I?

**AN: Okay, one down, 11 to go! Hopefully the PMs will keep coming in. Send me feedback on my writing and don't forget to review! Tell me which characters you like! Next up, District 6!**


End file.
